Lizzie Marshall's Wedding (2 page)

Three pairs of eyes focused on Doreen as she leant on the counter, flirting with the postman. It had become a morning ritual and, although he was at least forty years her junior, she’d told the girls on more than one occasion, that age didn’t matter.

‘Morning handsome,’ she said.

‘Morning gorgeous.  I’ve got a big parcel for you.’

‘Ooh! I bet you say that to all the girls.’ She winked at him and eyed him up and down.

 ‘Only the girls who give me coffee and cake; I like a woman with nice buns,’ he said, winking back.

Becky, Jess and Susie groaned quietly.

‘Little does he know, she’d like to get more than a parcel from him,’ Susie whispered, picking up her spoon and stirring the remnants of her coffee.

‘I’m not sure who’s worse,’ Becky said.

‘I’m not sure he’s joking,’ Jess added. ‘I’ve heard he goes to that disco in Hastings. You know, the one where all the female divorcees go, on the prowl for young guys. No wonder they’re called cougars.’

Becky shook her head and grinned. ‘How do you know all this stuff?’

‘I have my sources.’

‘You’re in the wrong profession. You should be a private detective, not a hairdresser,’ Becky said.

‘Hair designer extraordinaire, if you don’t mind!’ Jess beamed. ‘I’ve decided to update my title. Anyway, that’s how I get all the info. I’ve told you before; you’d be amazed what people talk about when I get my scissors out.’

Becky didn’t mean to ask. She wasn’t in the slightest bit interested, so she had no idea why she did, but she heard herself say, ‘Who told you all that stuff about Mr. Bedford?’

‘Oh, that was Connie Jessop. The Bedfords kept her on when they bought the place and she heard it from his mum. Or was it his mum’s friend? Can’t recall what she said. Anyway, someone at the Hall told her.’

‘Oh, so it must be true,’ Becky said sarcastically, flopping back against her chair. ‘Everyone knows what a gossip Connie Jessop is; she never lets the truth get in the way of a good story. Mr. Bedford’s probably happily married with six kids.’ Although, for some reason, she didn’t really think he was.

‘Why do you keep calling him Mr. Bedford?’ Jess asked. ‘He’s not your boss.’

‘He’s not my friend either. What do you want me to call him?’

Susie sniggered and leant back in her chair. ‘Play your cards right and you might be calling him darling.’

Becky’s mouth tightened as she remembered what had happened between herself and Max Bedford just hours earlier, and her contempt was apparent. ‘I may be calling him a great many things in the not too distance future, but I can assure you,
darling
, will not be one of them!’

An hour later, Becky, Jess and Susie were grocery shopping in Beckleston Stores. Like all the shops in the village, the Stores was privately owned and consequently carried stock the owners, Mary and Martin Parkes, knew was popular with their customers. Most of it could be purchased for less at the supermarket a few miles away but this didn’t deter the villagers and, unlike similar stores in other villages, this one thrived.

It may have been because most of the population of Beckleston were retired and many of them didn’t drive. There was a bus service but few could be bothered with that when the Stores stocked everything one could need, albeit for a few pence more. For Becky, Jess and Susie, Beckleston Stores was simply convenient; they all lived within a ten minute walk.

‘We’re having chilli,’ Becky said, ‘so I just need an onion and some rice. I forgot them at Sainsbury’s the other day.’

‘Shush.’ Jess placed a finger over her lips. ‘Don’t mention Sainsbury’s in front of Mary and Martin.’

Becky laughed. ‘They know we don’t live on the few items we buy in here every few days, Jess.’ She lowered her voice anyway. ‘They know we go to Sainsbury’s.’

‘Yeah. I always feel guilty though. Weird isn’t it?’

‘What’s weird?’ Susie asked. She’d been flicking through the magazines and tossed “Glamour” into the basket as she spoke.

‘Wishful thinking?’ Jess said, raising her eyebrows and nodding towards the magazine.

Susie pulled a face. ‘At least there’s hope for me; I’m not the one with pink and blue hair.’ She flicked her long, blond tresses over one shoulder and stuck her chin in the air.

‘You’d better watch where you’re walking or you may trip over your own ego,’ Jess sneered, ‘and there’s nothing wrong with pink and blue hair: it’s colourful – like me’

Becky smirked. ‘Stop it you two. You’re behaving like children. That reminds me, I want to get Lily a comic. I think I’ve got everything else, so I’ll grab one and we can go.’

She dashed across to the magazine section and bent down to look at the children’s magazines and comics. She picked one with a free gift and was about to stand up when she heard a male voice she recognised.

‘“Fifi and the Flowertots” – a little young for you isn’t it?’

Becky’s eyes shot to the face of the man towering over her and she almost stumbled backwards but Max Bedford reached out and grabbed her arm, gently pulling her to her feet.

‘This is the second time I’ve had to stop you from falling flat on your back today. It’s getting to be a habit. Tell me, do all men have this effect on you or is it just me?’

She saw the corners of his mouth twitch and had to summon all her strength, for a second time that day, to stop herself from slapping his face. Even his eyes seemed to be mocking her, and she shrugged her arm free of his hold, took a deep breath and clenched her fists, screwing up the edge of the comic as she did so.

He glanced towards the mangled comic, ‘Unless ...’ his brows knit together and a serious expression replaced the look of mockery. ‘Is that why you couldn’t read the sign?’

Becky’s mouth fell open in astonishment. He had already abused and manhandled her once today, and now he seemed to be saying that he thought she may have reading difficulties.

‘Yes! That’s precisely why I couldn’t read the sign,’ she snapped. ‘Down here in the country we don’t get a lot of time to learn our letters. We’re all too busy bowing and scraping to the incoming, would-be gentry. Tell me, were you born an arrogant twerp or do you practise?’

Max’s eyes scanned her face then a huge grin spread across his lips. ‘I practise.’ 

Becky wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Once again she’d lost her temper with this man and once again, he seemed to find it amusing. She wanted to make some cutting remark to wipe the smile from his face but the only thoughts that seemed to enter her head were, how kissable his lips looked; how lustrous his blond hair was and that little gold lights seemed to twinkle in his green eyes when he grinned.

Jess and Susie raced to Becky’s side; they’d seen Max come in and heard the exchange between them.

‘Everything all right Becky?’ Jess asked.

Max raised his eyebrows and still grinning said, ‘And these must be the Flowertots, Fifi.’ He glanced from Becky to her friends and the grin turned into a friendly smile, exposing perfect white teeth. ‘Very pleased to meet you. I’m Max Bedford.’

‘Hi. I’m Jess and this is Susie. Pleased to meet you too, Mr. Bedford. We saw you earlier this morning ... buying a paper ... in the Stores.’

Becky watched her friends almost visibly swoon.

‘Please, call me Max.’

Jess smiled then glanced at Becky. ‘You didn’t tell us you had already met Max.’

Becky tried to avoid her friend’s eyes. ‘I ... I forgot.’

‘Ah, forgotten so easily, I’m cut to the core.’

He didn’t look cut to the core, Becky thought. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely – at her expense.

‘I’m sure you’ll recover,’ she hissed, and headed to the counter to pay.

‘Not until we meet again, Madame Fifi.’

Becky could hear the laughter in his voice and she spun around to face him. She knew she should have ignored him, but there was just something about his attitude that made her see red and for some reason, she wanted him to know that she’d had a good education.

‘How charming,’ she said as calmly as she could, ‘I’ve progressed from a children’s comic character to a fictional 19
^th
century French prostitute. What next I wonder?’

Max raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised but still grinning he said, ‘I’m impressed. Your reading has come on in leaps and bounds in such a short time, although, I think that was Mademoiselle Fifi. But no. I was actually reminded of my mother’s poodle, Madame Fifi; she too, had curly brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and her bark was also far worse than her bite.’

Becky felt as if her body had transformed into an active volcano as anger bubbled up inside her. ‘A poodle! Now you’re calling me a dog!’

‘I’m not calling you a dog. I’m merely saying you remind me of her. You seem to have similar temperaments. It’s actually a compliment. I was very fond of that dog.’

The volcano erupted. ‘I have never met such an arrogant, conceited, rude, obnoxious ...’ Words failed her. She was already being repetitive.

‘Twerp?’ Max offered.

‘Pig!’ Becky shrieked.

‘So ... does that mean dinner is out of the question?’

Becky took a step forward but Susie grabbed her arm and without a word, handed Jess the shopping basket and almost dragged Becky from the Stores.

Jess paid a rather flustered Mary Parkes for the shopping, threw Max a cursory nod and dashed out after them.

CHAPTER TWO

‘I see what you mean about not calling him darling anytime soon,’ Jess said when they were safely back at Becky’s. What the hell was all that about and why did you lie and say you hadn’t seen him, when we were in the café earlier? You obviously had.’

Susie handed Becky a glass of red wine. ‘Are you okay? I haven’t seen you lose it like that for years.’

Becky was sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, her legs curled up beneath her and her head resting in her right hand. She took the glass and gulped down the contents then held the glass out to her friend. ‘More please.’

Susie refilled it but not before she glanced across at Jess, Becky noticed.

‘I’m okay. I’m sorry about what happened and I’m sorry about lying. I don’t know why I did. It’s just ... oh I don’t know. He made me so cross this morning and then just now, when he laughed at me, I ... oh, it’s just today, that’s all. I got some more bad news yesterday and this morning, I went for a walk to try to think, and that man started shouting at me and grabbing me and –’

‘What do you mean he shouted and grabbed you? When? Where? Why didn’t you tell us?’ Susie was clearly horrified.

‘What bad news?’ Jess asked.

Becky’s head was splitting. ‘I’ll just get some pain killers then I’ll tell you.’

‘I’ll get the pain killers, you stay put – and slow down on the wine.’ Jess was back in less than a minute and she handed Becky the tablets and a glass of water. ‘With water, not wine.’

Becky swallowed the tablets and sighed. She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes briefly. ‘Okay. Yesterday, I got a letter from my solicitor. It seems one of the creditors is no longer prepared to accept monthly payments and they’re going after the full amount. That means the whole thing comes tumbling down and I’m back to square one.’

‘What? They can’t do that! They all agreed to accept reduced amounts and monthly repayments. They can’t just change their minds and go back on it,’ Jess said, stunned by Becky’s news.

‘Apparently they can. This creditor has been taken over by another company and its lawyers have said there is no signed agreement. I was sure I got all their agreements in writing, but this one must have slipped through somehow. The terms were that all creditors must agree, so this could make the whole thing void or something. You know what banks are like, and most of the creditors are banks. I don’t really understand it but my solicitor said it’s true, although he’ll do what he can – which will mean more costs and ...’ Becky shook her head and fiddled with the stem of her wine glass.

‘Oh God Becky,’ Jess said, ‘just when you think things are getting better something comes and knocks you back down. Why on earth didn’t you tell us?’

‘I think I was trying to pretend it wasn’t really happening and, I suppose, part of me was hoping my solicitor would come back to me on Monday and say it was all a mistake and the agreement still stands. Besides, you’ve heard enough of my problems to last a lifetime. And then, of course, it’s the anniversary today. To be honest, I thought if I started telling you, I’d end up crying my eyes out and might never stop.’

Susie sat down beside Becky and put her arm around her. ‘You should have told us. We’d have cried with you. That’s what friends do, and then, we’d have tried to think of a way to deal with this.’

Becky smiled half-heartedly and tried in vain to stop the tears welling up. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you two – and I mean that. Sometimes, I can almost understand why Jeremy felt he had to do what he did; why he felt so hopeless, and if I didn’t have you –’

‘No!’ Jess snapped. ‘Don’t you ever say that. It’s only money and nothing justifies what he did. Nothing ever will. He had you, and he should have talked to you. Instead, he deceived you then left you in the lurch and you’ve spent the last five years trying to pay off his debts and deal with the grief. I know you loved him and I know he’s Lily’s dad and everything but he was still a bastard! Don’t ever say you understand it and don’t ever say you feel the same!’

‘Jess, don’t,’ Susie said, hugging Becky tighter.

Tears rolled down Becky’s cheeks. ‘It’s okay Susie. Jess is right. And I’d never do it. I couldn’t leave Lily. Sometimes, even I hate Jeremy, especially when I think what he spent all that money on. But gambling’s a sickness, an addiction, like alcohol and drugs and he just couldn’t stop.’

‘Then he should have got help. I’ve said this before so there’s no point in going over it, I know, but it wasn’t just his life he gambled away, it was yours and Lily’s too and I’ll never, ever, forgive him for that.’ Jess strode towards the kitchen. ‘I’ll get more wine.’

Becky grabbed a tissue from the box on the coffee table and wiped her eyes. ‘I was really beginning to think things might be improving and that this year would be good, until I got that letter yesterday. I didn’t get much sleep last night, as you can imagine. It was hard enough trying to sort it all out the first time around. I just don’t have the money. If they void the agreement, I could lose everything. That’s why I went for a walk to think things through – and what happened?  I met that bloody man! It’s like it never rains but it pours.’